


Hook me up!

by Illidria



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25087084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/pseuds/Illidria
Summary: “Never would’ve thought that you two, together for how many years now by the way? Alas, that you two would talk me into going to a hook-up party with you!”He should’ve expected them high-fiving.A case of harmless smut that somehow wanted a bit of plot.
Relationships: Olivier Mira Armstrong/Buccaneer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DayandKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayandKnight/gifts).



> To the one that always gets me to write <3

“And you guys are sure that this is a good idea? Because while I have nothing against you having your fun, I think that this will not be for me, with the selective mutism and stuff, you know?!”

Miles was waving worries away, or at least trying.

“Oh come on Bucc, we told you how these parties work, there’s nothing to it if you use your head a little and don’t get too shitfaced. And if nobody catches your fancy you just leave.”

Before he could say anything to that Akeem chimed in, shaking out his still-wet hair in preparation of hogging a mirror for the next hour or so.

“He’s right, you know. You find no one, you go home. You find someone, don’t want to stay in the rooms there? You go home. We’re out anyways, so don’t worry about that.”

Another blush, or rather the one already on his face deepening. Spoke through something like a sigh, that was maybe mostly nerves.

“Never would’ve thought that you two, together for how many years now by the way? Alas, that you two would talk me into going to a hook-up party with you!”

He should’ve expected them high-fiving.

“So you’re going!” Miles beamed up at him. Was he such a miserable single roommate?! “And it’s three years Bucc, just so you know. And it’s also not like we’re hooking up with anybody besides each other, so…”

Caught himself making a face but didn’t stop it. Reaping laughter when he exclaimed what was on his mind instantly.

“Too much information!”

* * *

This was ridiculous and he’d know it from the beginning.

Sure, most everybody in the townhouse had at first been a bit quiet, almost shy, people only talking at a low volume, looking each other up and down, getting drinks. Could’ve been a nice house party he thought, if he hadn’t known the underlying goal of it all. Sure, Akeem and Miles had after a few drinks vanished somewhere, like the semi-public-fetishists they were, but otherwise nothing much had seemingly happened.

After a while though, more people arriving and the alcohol starting to do its magic, Buccaneer felt more and more out of place.

People started talking, flirting, some started making out. Several couples vanished through the front door or went upstairs. Women approached him, beautiful women that talked to him and smiled and flirted and all left again after several minutes of him not answering. The selective mutism, for him mainly his inability to talk to most women in general and making it even harder to speak when nervous, turning them away.

Was a few times chatted up by men too, none of them less beautiful than the women, but his nerves had tongue-tied him already, not even another drink helping him in any way. So he remained making faces at people, stuttering through a syllable here and there, but ultimately remained standing where he was leaned against a wall, observing the room.

What had he thought would happen? That he’d talk to new people, would _actually_ hook up with someone? Nothing had worked as of yet! The humiliating speed dating thing he’d tried had ended with him leaving after the third conversation where he wasn’t saying anything at all. The people in front of him feeling a bit insulted, he’d seen it in their faces, the person next in line clearly dreading the ten minutes with him. Dating Apps had been a failure too, the whole navigating of who wanted what complicated, especially as he was truly open to anything.

If it evolved into a relationship, sure, he was fine with that, but a single hook up would be fine too.

Not even this Tinder-thing, easy and straightforward at the core of it, had worked out. He’d talked with several people on there, with some for several days. Typing was easier than talking, by far even. But each time things had gotten serious and somebody wanted to meet him, he clammed up. Ghosted them basically.

Really, taking him with them to this hook up party was probably the last thing Miles and Akeem could think of to help him in any way.

Not that he was all too miserable, he had friends, went to the gym, and played hockey, had plenty of hobbies, a fulfilling job and a nice home. But still, that didn’t seem enough. Especially now with looking at the people around him, plenty in the semi-dark corners making out, or talking and laughing. Just like that being able to connect with people.

Not that Buccaneer had not seeked professional help, had been in more therapies than he could count on one hand, had seen specialist that had checked him thoroughly. There was nothing wrong physically, there were some things in his mind he was pretty sure, backed by several of the therapists through the years, that were certainly having an effect. The worst thing though this gnawing feeling of isolation.

Sighed, pushed himself from the wall to search for his jacket and walk home, when someone suddenly smiled up at him.

“Hey.”

Full lips, big blue eyes and a smile that bordered on wicked.

“Going to get a drink? Or already going home?”

He really tried to unglue his gums but had to give up after several moments of silence.

Instead got to see how she cocked her head to the side a bit, eyes narrowing. Lips pursing in a way he couldn’t ignore, his discomfort at his own inaptitude mounting. And just when she opened her mouth again, no doubt to tell him what an arrogant prick he was, or a variation of that, she closed it again. Instead she raised her hands.

It was a complicated series of movements she made with her hands; one he didn’t understand to boot. But he got that this was sign language and that she was searching for solutions. Making a face he hoped conveyed that this wasn’t why he was silent; he shook his head.

Her nose crinkled and a small line appeared between her brows.

“So you’re not using sign language, but also don’t talk. But you’re here anyways?”

It wasn’t as accusing as he expected, though being honest with himself he’d simply expected her to walk away. Nodded though, tried to smile but felt the corners of his mouth resist. At what he expected to be a grimace, the blonde in front of him cracked a half-smile of her own.

Infinitely better than his.

“So no one else at this party has gotten you to a dark corner yet, just because you don’t answer questions directly? And that all while you’re clearly the most attractive hunk of a man here and have that ponytail just begging to be pulled? Idiots!”

There it was again, that dangerous grin he’d seen before. Felt himself flush red, for the thousandth time today. Couldn’t not notice that she was gorgeous, hair long and blond and a bit curly at the ends, eyes big and blue and rimmed by dark eyeliner and equally as dark eyeshadow. Nose regal, prominent, the tiniest bit crooked, but curved in a way that accentuated her face, gave it a commanding and powerful look. Cheekbones high and pronounced, a contrast to her full lips. Didn’t even dare to look further south, too taken with the slight hint of familiarity in her features and the simple fact that he’d probably also become unable to move then.

Instead blinked at her grin, trying to form a word and not even getting a single stuttered syllable out. Rather watched when she got a little closer, eyes inquisitive all of a sudden, serious.

“So Big Guy, to the issue at hand,” he swallowed hard, “Even though you clearly don’t say much, or anything even, you’ll still show a no when you’re uncomfortable, right? Push me away or something?”

Took a moment to process her words, suddenly realizing that never in his live and its silent encounters he’d ever been asked, up front, about that. Nodded then, vigorously. She was not only interested in him, she was clearly smart, seemingly knew sign language, thought ahead. Was gorgeous to boot, not deterred by him being silent. The feeling of being desired blooming in his chest, of being taken seriously too.

And while he felt hypervigilant of everything, he could swear that there’d been a few steps in-between, before making out with her on a cushioned windowsill in the second stories hallway. Not that he was going to complain.

Instead loved the feel of these soft lips on his, sitting half on top of him as she was, just knowing that he’d find a bit of lipstick on his face when looking into a mirror next. Couldn’t get enough of the way she smelled this up close, the mix of bitter coffee and what he thought to be roses, something flowery at least. This tinge of something that smelled familiar, but he couldn’t really place.

Didn’t mind the corner of wall and window digging into his back all that much. Barely noticed that there were plenty of people coming and going in this hallway, though what was there to notice with his eyes closed? Especially with her hands to focus on, one on his neck and inching towards his braided hair, the other against his chest, pressing into it, nails scratching even through the fabric of his shirt.

With the ferocity of their making out he felt a bit bolder, let his own hands move from their somewhat still hold on her waist. Moved one up to her neck, to pull her even closer, but to also feel her skin under his fingertips. Rubbed his thumb towards her ear in a deliberate movement, with just enough pressure to feel how soft and warm her skin truly was. Brushed her hair with the back of his hand, not sure if he’d ever felt a sensation like this, his own hair feeling so different in comparison.

Did not fret about it, went with the movement of his hands and her neck combined, kissed her right beneath her ear where his thumb had just ghosted along. Liked the way her breathing turned more erratic at that, how her one hand finally made its move, digging into his hair, fingers pushing through the thicket of his braid. Pulling ever so slightly.

Brushed his nose against her neck, kissed his way up and down, the one hand that had remained on her waist moving down on its own. Landed on her thigh first, he’d always loved to work his way up to an ass rather than down, though a short realization made him hesitate for half a second, before carrying on.

Her breath was hot on his ear when she spoke, her voice quiet.

“It’s just the one. Won’t be a problem, right?”

Thumb still at her neck, so close to her ear, he used the leverage of that and turned her to him again, kissing her on the lips. Not slowing down. Let his hand wander up her thigh slowly just like he would’ve if he hadn’t felt the dip and hardness under her coarse jeans, like he hadn’t realized that the leg was automail. Instead let his fingers linger on where he felt flesh and metal meet, knew from experience how sensitive that area was.

Could place the mystery-smell now too, seeming so familiar to him because he surely smelled alike, the oil of the automail, the polishing pastes distinctive, yet subtle.

When feeling another and not so subtle tug at his braid, feeling a grin come to his lips, he dug his own hand into her hair. Was more careful though, did not tug or wind her hair around his fingers. It was fine when his own hair got snagged on the automail fingers, but Buccaneer was pretty sure that it would be less funny if it happened with somebody else.

With the other hand finally on her ass, he tried digging his fingers into the pliant flesh he found. And for a second wondered if he’d done it too hard, because her lips parted from his at that. Instead of harsh words though, a scolding, he got a grin.

“You know,” For a while the hand on his chest had been traveling lower, but he felt his breath catch when it now brushed over the bulge in his pants, “we should try to get a room.”

Her eyes boring into his he nodded, though it took her a few moments of staring into him more before she got up off him, elegantly untangling her legs and pulling him up with her hands around his metal wrist. Pulling him after her, this devilish expression on her face again.

It took them looking at a few asses when people didn’t yell occupied upon their knocking, but after a few minutes they found a free room. It was him turning the lock on the door, not as keen on his ass being looked at, which albeit unsaid made her laugh.

Felt a bit of a blush bloom on his face again, however stupid that seemed to even him with how heavily they’d just made out, but still he stepped up to her with no hesitation. Leaned down once more, hand on the back of her neck and tilting her head a little, kissing her. Felt her hands tug on his shirt, on his belt, though her lips fervently returned his kisses. Let himself be pulled and guided once more, feeling what must be the bedframe at the back of his knees and sitting down.

Wanted to pull her with him again, but instead felt her hand on his face, cupping the right side of it, gently steering them apart. Looked up at her now, how she stood between his legs and slowly sunk to her knees, her smile alone, the gleam in her eyes and the way she looked at him enough to send a shiver of arousal through him.

Her voice sultry, but straight to the point.

“I’d like to blow you off, see if it’s as good as your lips. And after you got to blow the first load, you’ll maybe use that big mouth on me? And after _that_ , when you’re ready for it, we’ll go for a nice ride? Only _if_ you’re down of course?”

Winked at him, bit her lip, though Buccaneer noted the seriousness lurking in her gaze, the question. No hesitation on his part because this sounded like the best damn plan he’d ever heard.

Nodded at her, smiled, though tried to convey the seriousness of his decision in his gaze also. And seemingly succeeding too, because promptly he felt and saw her pale and long fingers work on loosening his belt. Had to commend her work, really, though found that voicing anything was still impossible for him, even if his glums weren’t glued together anymore.

As such, he looked at her, propping himself up with his arms and dead-set on showing the blonde beauty with body language alone how much he gods-be-damned enjoyed what they were doing. The belt soon opened, fly pulled down and the button of his jeans popped, Buccaneer slightly lifted his ass in aide.

Hissed through his teeth when the coarse fabric of the jeans brushed over his erection, still contained in its boxers or not. Couldn’t look away when the corners of her mouth creased, her grin lopsided. Noticed for the first time that she had a dimple on the right side of her face, the other obscured by some of her long hair. Made a mental note to check though if her dimple had a twin.

The dying down hiss followed by a groan falling from his lips now, because while watching her face she’d without hesitation started to pull on the band of his boxers. Was having the fabric slide over his skin just enough to let him know that she was a tease to the core, yet obliged when he felt her knuckles rap against his thigh softly, lifted his ass off the bed once more and breathed out loudly when she pulled the boxers from him too, leaving them to pool at his feet with his jeans.

And then, for a few moments, there was no sound from her and only staring.

Then her eyebrows met right above her nose, the lopsided grin back again and a shake of her head letting her golden tresses dance. Unbidden he felt his face flush again and felt himself throb. Her voice was cutting, with an edge of humour to it.

“How do you, _big_ man,” started to touch _him_ with her left, softly, while pressing a kiss to his tattooed thigh, “not really able to speak to me, or anybody else it seems,” followed the patterns on his leg while very softly and gently pumping him, torturously slow, “go and get such a piercing done?”

Pulled his foreskin back fully, exposing the ring through the head of his penis, thick and for so many years a part of him that Buccaneer barely thought about it. Was instead trying to form words, to answer at least one of her questions, yet it was hard to concentrate with her soft movements along his shaft, her even softer lips still following the marks on his thighs, reading the story of his ancestors in a way that had him gasping for air.

Felt his eyes on her, tried to keep the flutter of his own under control. Still talking between kisses that led herself closer and closer to his need, she asked questions he tried his best to answer without speaking.

“That means that you were born under the watchful eye of the bear, right?”

Blew air out of her nose over the pattern she’d just lavished with her tongue, sending a shock at the cool sensation through him. Buccaneer nodding still, not letting go of her gaze. The hand on his need softly, very softly, extending a finger towards his piercing, following its form with so much care that he understood that she truly feared hurting him.

Her voice not letting that on though.

“And this here I guess, is the real thing? From the same place where those,” her right hand, so suspiciously still before, now danced over his tattoos too, “were given to you?”

She was almost where he wanted her most, was entrancing him with her movements, her gaze, her knowledge too. It was rare to come across someone that knew anything about the tribal lifestyle, even here in North City. That Buccaneer had managed to be found by her, understanding of his silence, smart and breathtakingly gorgeous…

“Y-… Yeah… real.”

He’d noticed that her eyes were blue, but not until now just how much so. Clear like a clean lake when the coming spring melted the ice on top. Like the sky on a day without clouds. Burrowing into his further, right into his soul.

And then there was a grin again on her face, not as devilish as before. And a tint of red on her cheeks. There even was something of a giggle when she, having worked herself up his thighs, kissed the base of his dick, making him jump.

“You know that this thing,” the tip of one of her long fingers now on the tip of his throbbing member, keeping it in position, “is ludicrous, right? I mean, I’d expected you to be quite the bear by your build, but this…”

Shook her head again, was so close to him now that he could feel her hair slide over his thighs, tickling him. Could only watch when another slight chuckle went through her before she pushed her hair behind her ears, out of the way, the almost sudden assault of two hands and her breath on him for a second a lot to feel.

Not fingertips sliding over the skin of his groin, through his pubes, but blunt nails. The air of her breath cold against the head of his swaying erection, nails softly grazing up and down his shaft. Her tongue making him jump when sliding along his length, the sensation of air on this cold trail forcing him to keep his hips in check with all his might even.

Fisted his hands in the sheets when seeing lips close over the head of his member, when feeling and registering it keeping his hips from bucking up. Saw eyes flutter to his for a moment, understood that it was appreciated. And groaned in earnest when she started to explore him with her tongue, when her fingers continued on their own expedition.

Felt his eyes flutter shut almost when her tongue dug between his piercing and where it went through, ghosted along oversensitive glans, all while one hand almost massaged one of his balls, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. Noticed when she tried to take him deeper into her throat, knew that sound escaped him at that more loudly, but just fisted his hands harder into the sheets, pressed his still booted feet a little firmer into the carpet.

Was rewarded for that, or at least felt like it, when she managed another inch before pulling back, salvia connecting her lips and his dick. Was gasping for air a little, smiled though. Devilishly again. And while he grappled for air too, her voice sounded almost haughty, the arousal clear to hear, but also the teasing. And the honest question she wanted an answer too.

“Where do you want to come? If you take of your shirt I could watch you shoot on your chest,” her hands not idling, one pumping him slowly, the other firm on his thigh, while she resituated her legs, “could probably find a towel or something for you to come into. Or I could just swallow it.”

There was a gleam in her eyes again when he answered with a moan, choice more than just clear to her. Searched for a second, if she was maybe not as pleased at him with that option, but saw nothing but arousal, sheer want. Flushed again, though not more than was normal during what they were doing, the due amount so to speak. His member in her hand jumped though, just enough for her to chuckle.

“Good choice.”

Nothing holding her back now it seemed, what he deemed to be without hesitation before now fully outdone in seconds. Could hardly place where which hand of hers was moving and scratching and pinching, instead could only name some sensations. The nails scratching at his balls, only digging in for a second before soft fingertips soothed the reddish crescent moons again. The palm of her hand along his shaft, steadily and without haste moving up and down, pushing against veins and making him see stars. Her tongue, first circling the head of his member, then broadly caressing over his glans, before following the form of his piercing. Teeth softly, ever so softly, scraping over his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. Two lanky fingers first gently pulling on his piercing, then after a moan turning it just a bit, sensation exquisite.

All brought together by her mouth enveloping him, taking him deeper than anybody before, so different from everything else that it made his eyes fall shut fully, let him fall back to his elbows. Sheer determination the only thing that delayed his orgasm for several seconds because he wanted his eyes on the sight that she was, wanted to not fall flat on the back.

And when her tongue then again danced over his glans, when the grip around his member was fierce and there was a pinch somewhere, when her eyes locked on his, he announced his coming orgasm with a continuous moan.

Saw stars, shook, was unable to think clear. And only came down from this high when he felt her hands softly caress his thighs, eyes zeroing in on her smile, the sound of her swallowing. Groaned, this time in pain and pleasure mixed when his dick jumped at the sight.

Licking her lips she was again temptation incarnate.

“Backed up a bit, huh? Good though?”

One eyebrow risen, her gaze steely, he cupped her face with one hand, pulled her up and towards him. Kissed her with no hesitation, no regard for the taste of himself. Deemed it utterly unimportant. Instead was taken with how they naturally moved into something of an embrace on the bed, sharing open mouthed kisses and hands wandering freely.

Only now the sound of knocking registering in his mind. And how she broke the kiss at that, sighing.

“Occupied! Fuck, this is annoying!”

And she was right, because just when he’d pulled her close again, movements made a bit awkward with his pants still around his ankles, it knocked again. And there was talk outside, plenty of voices. The annoyance skittering over her face was new, but earnest in a way. Her sigh too, the half-smile.

“Okay, with them knocking constantly and forming a line to get in it’ll just be a matter of time before I beat someone up. This…”

Buccaneer was amazed how keen her perception was, because without a hitch she’d caught on to his lips, moving sluggishly, but on their own.

“It…it’s…two stations to… to my place.”

Another kiss pressed to his lips, a smile and then hands pulling his pants upwards.

“Well then, we better get going. Murder would kill the mood.”

He’d not laughed like that in a long while.

* * *

“By the ancestors, is that really a Modell T-90?! Damn!”

The big guy had a cute voice, there was no way around it. Not cute-cute, but kind off gruff and very earnest, with this kind edge. She only had a few stuttered words to go by and now this one sentence, but Olivier was pretty sure that yes, this was how he sounded. When he _talked_.

Was still holding her automail-foot in that huge hand of his, her jeans on the floor in front of the kitchen counter she was sitting on, the big guy beaming up at her.

“It’s a T-90 X3 even, though I’m not cleared for the blades yet. Safety’s still on though.”

Winked at him, because while he was the first automail-enthusiast that she hooked up with, she didn’t want him to be the one to flip the switch and get startled by the empty blade-socket coming from her shin.

“Incredible, I think I’ve never seen a X3 outside of a catalogue. This is… is…”

It was his only mistake, that he’d now looked past her automail slowly. Got hung up again on her lacy panties, her lack of shirt and jacket that where somewhere on the other side of the kitchen isle and her bra, which didn’t match said panties, but at least made her cleavage look spectacular.

Wasn’t mad about it, how could she be when seeing how embarrassed the big guy was by it himself? Kept him from beating himself up with winding her foot out of his hand, pushing it against his shoulder instead.

“Care to carry on with what you were doing before this admittedly awesome piece of engineering distracted us?”

Didn’t need to tell him twice, shivered when an automail finger travelled up the back of her flesh leg torturously slow. Watched the big guy get up again, without question having when pulling down her pants made sure that they wouldn’t snag in the automail. Probably knew the trouble, but the simple change of pace had been nice.

Threw her hair back when he stood in front of her like that, between her legs and looking down into her eyes. Was not just tall, but huge, towering over her if she was honest, though it didn’t feel like that. Instead she felt herself shiver once more under the intensity of his gaze, though stared right back.

Could not help the grin pulling on her mouth and neither could she keep herself from reaching up and grabbing his braid, pulling him down.

Twisted the thick braid around her left hand once, cupped his face with her right, the kiss deep and urgent. Liked how his metal fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, while his flesh hand was on her waist, working up with a caressing thumb. His fingers rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the soft skin of his face, freshly shaven and the smell of aftershave subtly lingering.

Liked his lips, could appreciate a man who not only knew what chapstick is, but also used it on the regular. Though while that was a nice thing, soft lips and all, it was really the way he kissed her that made all the difference.

More force than she at first expected in his kisses, this man with a small tilt of his head getting yours just into the position he wanted it in. Moved expertly, Olivier not sure if she’d ever met someone that that made her that eager to kiss them back in kind. Felt her eyes flutter shut when he brought his tongue into the mix, for a while coherent thought exchanged for pulling fiercely on his braid, her other arm winding around his neck, pulling him closer.

Only when breaking apart to catch their breath, the big guy moving his hands up towards her bra, she could spare a second to muse the circumstances that got them together for this night of fun.

A party like the one tonight here in North City happening every other week, always someplace else, almost a staple for her to go to if the mood was right. And that big silent guy in the corner had quickly caught her eye, with his arms thicker than a wooden beam and that shy smile that just made you gravitate towards him. The whole thing with him not saying much hadn’t been any trouble either, his acceptance of her automail-leg equally as silent and swift. Blowing him had been fun, the pure restraint that this man had intriguing. Not to mention that, while not the initial factor of her approaching him, his dick was spectacular enough that she really _wanted_ to blow him. Sure, she’d hesitated when being led here by him, the entrance to the flat at the back of the house, only reached by going through a small and dimly lit alleyway. But it had only taken a second for her to decide that the big guy wasn’t _that_ kind of guy.

And really, as far as smooth moves and being sat down on kitchen isles went when it came to hook-ups, this was top notch.

“It opens in the front.”

His nestling at the back of her bra coming to a stop, his smile a bit sheepish, the dust of red on his cheeks nice. With precision her bra opened and pushed off her shoulders, flying somewhere she couldn’t see.

Instead she stared at him staring at her.

Eyes turning dark, even more full of lust. A grin flickering around his mouth, fingers itching in the air for a moment before making contact. She did not care for supressing the gasp when he flicked the piercing, laughed right after at his questioning gaze.

“Very drunk big guy, I was very, very drunk! It’s pretty though, right?”

It had been quite a surprise when waking up in her bed after long night, one boob aching suspiciously. She’d undressed, looked down at herself and later in the mirror, kind off taken with the little golden ring through her left nipple. It was subtle enough, had not really been a hassle during the hectic day that had followed, even though it had taken many messages to figure out how the ring came to be. Her roommate still laughed herself to tears when hearing the story.

He did not say that it was pretty, she’d accepted that verbalising it just wasn’t in big guy’s repertoire. But still, she just had to hiss and moan when he without any more hesitation took her nipple in his mouth, sucked, and played with the ring through it, a large hand and deft fingers keeping her other one busy.

“Fuck, you really know what you’re doing!”

Moaned louder, more throatily, when he bit her after that remark. Only a little bit, there was clearly no intention to hurt, but it still send a shock through her. Slowly sinking to fully lie on her back on the counter, elbows trembling with the effort of keeping herself up and hands itching for him with each new ministration. Grabbed his ponytail once more when he switched breasts, dug her fingers into his broad shoulders.

To say that she was wet, would be an understatement. Knew that she was soaked, wanted, no, needed more. And big guy, she really had to commend his timing, finally moved past her boobs and nipples just when the thought crossed her mind. Kissed down her abdomen, nipped here and there, glossing over her scars. Or maybe the light was dim enough for the foundation to still cover them, she couldn’t be sure. Didn’t want to care, honestly, when his fingers hocked into her lacy panties.

She lifted her but, through hazy eyes admired the care with which he once more led a garment past her automail to keep it from snagging on it. She could really learn something from him in that regard. And just as she thought that, laughter bubbled up.

The big guy carefully trying to free her pair of panties, having snagged in his automail hand, and clearly not wanting to come off. Sitting up, assisting with her own fingers, she soon held her underwear as a prize and threw it somewhere behind her.

Pulled his blushing face close again by a slowly unravelling braid, kisses hot and open-mouthed, anticipation again running through her. Through him too, clearly, because he broke the kiss, directed her to lie back again. Fingers digging into her ass with differing intensity, pulling her close towards the edge, while she let her legs rest on his shoulders, automail-foot on his shoulder and flesh-leg hocked over it.

There was not much of a wait until she felt his mouth make contact with her flesh.

Keened as he nipped the inside of her thigh, let a finger play along the rim of her automail. Shivered when his breath ghosted over her wet folds when a lone finger followed the outline. She’d though it weird, when really hitting puberty, that her inner labia stuck out so much. Comments were rare, most people just grateful for the closeness at all, not caring much, the one that always kinda stuck with her when one of the girls said that she looked like a flower, in a way. Liked that comparison, liked how he trailed his finger over her glistening flesh, and she liked how he smiled.

Watched him trace the lines, the thin scars from the automail surgery. Over her hip, alongside her inner thigh, the straight line that went halfway through her pubes. It was somehow gratifying when he choose that as the point to press the first kiss to. With closed lips and a poking nose working through her blonde, trimmed curls, soon starting with really exploring her folds.

It was incredible right of the bat. His tongue wide, skilled, dipping and digging in such a way that she had to through her head from side to side. His fingers in the mix, his flesh ones, probing and prodding and feeling thick. His automail fingers still digging into her ass, keeping her writhing form where he wanted it.

Closed lips pulling on her labia, tongue darting out to her swelling nub. Breath ghosting over her, tongue working along her entrance, the sound wet and obscene and incredibly hot to her. His breath short, eyes looking up to her every so often, dark and heady. She gasped when one of his thick fingers finally entered her, pressed up, explored.

Had her fingers around an unravelled strand of his hair, pulled to get his attention. His gaze was intense, her voice hard to find through moans and laboured breathing.

“If you keep that up, I’ll flood the counter. Just a heads-up.”

He clearly didn’t care about that.

Went to town, forcing her eyes screwed shut, having her moan and wiggle and pull on his hair so hard that it just had to hurt. Sucked in her swollen nub, slipped another one of his fingers into her, the come-hither motion unexpected and too much. Her muscles spasming, her back cresting and the neighbours only knew what sounds she made.

Did not care, could not care, simply letting go.

Felt his fingers still moving softly through the aftershocks, the soothing flesh hand on her thigh. The gaze on her, face flushed and eyes wide. She grinned.

“You by chance have a bed?”

Did not complain when he threw her over his shoulder, laughed instead, not caring if that was usually not what you did to her. Instead carried her to what had to be his bedroom fire-man style, the bed wide and sheets smelling good, like washing machine and man. Sunk into his pillows for a moment, before getting up on her knees and pulling on his clothes. Soon changed to standing on the bad on wobbly legs, when it became clear that he was just too tall otherwise.

Pulled on his shirt, admired the body that had been hidden underneath. Muscles defined, hair black and coarse, the tattoos winding over his shoulder blades spectacular and detailed. Where flesh and automail met scars jutting here and there, thin surgical ones. He hissed when she kissed along them, just to top it off with a bite.

Saw how her flicked the elastic that still hung in his hair away, watched entranced when he shook out his long black hair. And grinned, when his own fingers in unison got rid of belt, pants, underwear and socks, boots already having been left at the door.

Standing there like that, she felt all the anticipation coil more strongly then ever in her belly.

It was with ease when she pulled him onto the bed, got him on his back. Kisses exchanged, hands exploring for many more moments, though either of their full arousal was apparent and demanded attention. His big hand opening a drawer of his bedside-table, the condom picked and ripped open easily by her, pulled over his throbbing member with care.

Their eyes locking when she got in position above him, let him slide through her folds a little more with the head of his cock, dark eyes glazing over. His hands on her hips, almost gently guiding her, hard enough to bruise and yet without pressure. She took a deep breath before letting herself sink onto him slowly, though it did little to mask the moan.

Halfway down lifted her hips again, breathed through the slight discomfort, knowing full well that it would be pure extasy in only a few minutes. There was no other way, it had to be, the piercing already scraping inside of her, the straining muscles already demanding more. Sunk down again, found a rhythm.

His breathing hard, his thumb on her clit, while she firmly planted both of her hands on his wide chest for purchase. Moved herself up and down, noticed that her world was slowly getting fuzzy on the edges. And when with a breath fully resting against him, fully having taken him, she leaned down for another kiss.

Did not know who’s hips it were that had started to move first, did not care. Only was thinking about these exquisite sensations, of muscles moving and fingers pinching, of both their mouths standing open so that they didn’t keel over from lack of oxygen. Knew that she was moaning, how couldn’t she?

The friction soon having her become soft, resting on her elbows again and his lips kissing her, ravishing her, while he moved his hips a little, changed their position just the tiniest bit. And started to thrust.

Short and quick and entirely overwhelming, world a haze, she conceded to her fate of laying on his chest, drowning in pleasure. Was held, arms strong around her, while her nipples rubbed over his coarse chest her, while her lips searched for his. And only when he was then with a finality pressing into her, another wave overtaking her own body and mind, almost making the world go black, she really let go.

Did not know for how long they lay there, only laboured breathing to be heard, until he softly tucked her into his side, throwing a blanket over them. Turned off the light.

And she didn’t really care either.

* * *

He knew that he shouldn’t stare but did so anyways.

Her form beautiful, especially with the moon shining in through the window like that. Her gaze hidden by the blonde tresses as she was looking out of the window, her form relaxed. Buccaneer was sure that he’d never seen a woman more desirable in his life.

Felt caught, when her eyes found his then, world around them silent.

Indecision in mismatched feet when she shifted her weight, though when he lifted the blanket, inviting her, there was only one more moment of hesitation. Her body already cold against his when she slipped in, was close again, though he was sure that he’d get her warmed up in no time.

Soft kisses soon evolving.

* * *

He stood in the kitchen with his chest bare, dressed only in a pair of slacks, somehow managing to look her in the eyes while she stood there butt-naked.

Even spoke, softly, but still.

“There’s the shower. I’m making breakfast. And the doors over there. Whichever you want.”

Cocked her head to the side for a moment, fought down her inner voices that said leave and instead thought about how icky it was when you had to put on clothes after having sweated a lot.

“I’ll go take a quick shower.”

His smile small, kind, blush never leaving him. His eyes on her, she knew, having seen the bruises on her arms, make-up long gone. How his eyes had gotten stuck on the base of her nose, the thin scar, still stark against her skin. The other marks, usually carefully hidden. It was weird that he didn’t seem to mind.

Was telling herself that she would leave, cleaning herself up and revelling in the feel of warm water on sore muscles. With her midnight-escape having ended the way it did, with having slept soundly until almost midday, she’d been here far too long. Opened the bathroom door wrapped in a towel, wanted to ask where her clothes were, when the smell of pancakes hit her. Stomach grumbling, she thought that a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

Was handed an oversized shirt and a pair of slacks, drawstring almost not enough to keep them from falling. Got a plate but onto the wiped down kitchen-counter from the smiling big guy, the washer in the background making sure that she could leave in clean clothes. And admiring his pancake-flipping skills, plate already razed, something occurred to her.

“My name’s Olivier, by the way.”

His blush was cute as was his smile. His deep breaths before speaking.

“… and… and I’m Buccaneer, I…

Her grin deepened.

“Yeah, I know. You ghosted me on Tinder.”

He maybe threw the pancake to the ceiling at that, but she still decided to stay a little more.

Until her roommate tracked her phone in worry and picked her up, that was.


	2. Dippin the dip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs*

„You’re not going out this weekend either?”

Gathered her keys, shrugged into her coat, while her roommate lay on the couch with one cat on her stomach and one on her legs.

“Mac and Cheese clearly won’t let me go anywhere.”

Solaris narrowed her eyes.

“That’s not their names!”

A huff.

“You called your cats Macavity and Chester. You did the Mac and Cheese thing to yourself!”

 _Grumbled_ to herself, in all honesty knew that she was fighting a losing battle here. She had already called her cats that too, there was simply no turning back. However, it was fun to keep Olivier on her toes.

“Maybe, but those are still not their names.” snapped a picture with her mobile still, her cats on her disheveled roommate very cute and her noises of discontent always funny, “Though really, no going out? There’s no way that this big pirate-dude dicked you down so good that you’re not going out two weekends in a row!”

Which was not troubling in the traditional sense, Olivier’s life had been up until now far from normal. Still was, honestly. Moreover, even though it would not be _her_ thing especially, her roommate was safe during her outings. No unnecessary danger, no extreme practices, sometimes really nothing more than a party. Just the desire to do something, to feel good and to feel validation, that she still was desirable.

Wouldn’t have taken her on if she weren’t so sure of that.

“I’m just not feeling like it, okay Sol? I’ll be fine, I have company and there’s a pizza in the freezer, so I won’t starve.”

Realization was almost like a punch in the gut.

“You want to see him again!”

Her answer was way too quick, the cats not bothered though.

“Do not!”

The smile came unbidden.

“You _really_ want to see him again! _Or_ …you are afraid of that?!”

Moved over, pushed Olivier’s hip to the side with a mix of care and force. Sat down next to her, peering into blue eyes that narrowed in anger.

“I don’t want to see him again Solaris, I don’t want to see anybody!”

Leaned in closer, knew that Olivier was, albeit not acting the part, all right with it. Had said herself, during their first meeting and the talk about needs and wants, that being held accountable, being forced to think through, formulate and spill out her feelings in a comfortable environment would probably be crucial. Solaris then, and now, admired the therapist’s groundwork and how aware Liv was of her own flaws.

“He gave you his number for a reason, you know? It is alright if you don’t want to see someone again, but he made it pretty clear that he would like to see you again, if you want to.”

There it was and her tone, the usually so confrontational eyes evading hers, just underlined it.

“Nobody wants to see me a second time Solaris. Not with the lights on.”

She had picked her up that day, had geo-searched for her phone, a safeguard they both had agreed on. Was not denying that she wanted to be mad, would have loved a short message of “I’m alright, getting breakfast”. Anything, honestly, to not worry about Olivier. In addition, Solaris could not deny that the guy, while not really _her_ type, was something to look at.

Had kindly, if fully silent, offered her a pancake too. Had smiled when handing Olivier her clothes from the dryer. Solaris had feared that he would keel over or something when he had blushed super hard upon pointing to her roommate’s mobile. In addition, his smile had been cute when handed the little device to type his number in.

She spoke from the heart, other words Olivier barely heard anyways.

“Bullshit. He saw you with the lights on, even the damn _sun_ was on. He likes you, you like him. Don’t make it more complicated than that.”

Macavity stretched, bumped his nose into Olivier’s chin. Her face a mask, neutral. Words though, showed the still strong self-loathing.

“I’m a basket case Solaris; I’m a piece of work, have a heap of problems, I…”

“Stop! You know the exercise, counter with something good please.”

A heavy sigh.

Solaris knew that it would help, even when feeling kind of flat. Olivier tended to spiral, to pile onto her own loathing and talk herself down into the ground. To point out a positive trait helped to intercept this spiral.

“I have awesome boobs?”

It was hard not to laugh and even harder to not feel a little relieved at the blonds’ half-smile.

“You do, though mine are better. Your ass though, is out of this world. But a positive non-body thing now, ok?”

Chester yawned, looking at her as if she were intruding. Her _own_ cat.

“I am very open minded and accept everybody, except for people that behave like total cunts.”

“Now _that_ you truly are.”

There still was uncertainty, but now the willingness to find a solution.

“How much to tell him, _should_ we meet?”

It was something she had to play by ear, these questions. _Little true knowledge of social interactions beyond a certain level_ had been written in Liv’s file. Which was half-bullshit, because Solaris knew of her past, of her history. Of her _now_. This person had some of the tightest social interactions and understood them deeply. True, unbreakable bonds, but forged by things nobody should go through. Yet, she was also woefully unprepared for things like superficial interactions, public expectations, and dating.

Paired with the self-worth issues it was at times like a time bomb.

“The basic answer is as much as you want. But I guess that won’t really help you?”

Olivier shaking her head as best as possible with being sprawled on the couch and weighed down by two chunky cats.

“Nope, it doesn’t. I feel like they should know it all, you know? So that I’m not like the cat in the bag. But at the same time, I know it’s too much for them to hear _and_ for me to tell.”

Solaris could not deny that it was a tough situation.

“So, you don’t want to be dishonest? That’s good, also that you want them to be aware of your struggles. I would like to point out to you though, that this should be a two-way street. Maybe offer a little trade?”

Why did Mac and Cheese seem to like it so much better when Liv scratched behind their ears?

“Me telling them about a fucked-up part of myself in return for one of theirs?”

“Self-deprecating language!”

The sigh was heavy before Olivier spoke again.

“You mean that I present them with one piece of the emotional baggage I carry and they in return can be open about one of their own, if they want to?”

It had taken just one time for Solaris to learn that praising her now for rephrasing would ruin any chances of it happening again for at least two months.

“Yup, like that. Though let me stress: Only if you feel comfortable. You don’t need to trade anything, or talk at all, when you have a bad gut feeling.”

There was a small pause.

“And if I want to meet them again _after_ , but feel like they should know a little more about, “ another pause in between Olivier’s words, the one thing in her eyes Solaris hated the most, “… you know, my baggage most surely outweighing theirs. What can I do? Don’t want to lead anybody on.”

Shame in blue eyes, just shame. Neither she, nor the rest of the team had as of yet been able to get rid of that.

“If you feel the need to let them know more at that stage, maybe tell them to google you. Warn that it is disturbing in parts and that they should maybe stick to Wikipedia first, but that way they can decide how deep they want to dig down into the rabbit hole.”

Olivier got even comfier on the couch, cats stretching out with her.

“You’re really fucking good at this stuff, you know that? Almost like it’s your job. Thank you.”

She petted her cats before standing up again, starting to feel warm in the light coat. Had a time to keep, glad that she always was ready too early. Smiled at Olivier, happy to help.

“Do not forget to eat, write the cute dude if you want to and most important of all: be safe! I’ll be back Sunday morning.”

The eyeroll was expected, as well as the huff. The half-smile and the kind voice too. It still felt good.

“Thank you Sol, really. And call when you get there, ok?”

Slipped on her shoes, grabbed her bag, waved from the door to her roommates and her cats.

“I will Liv, be safe!”

Yelled, just before closing the door and walking a bit quicker right after, snickering.

“And don’t beat anybody up while I’m gone!”

The laughter followed her down the staircase.

* * *

“And what do I do now?”

Phone on the coffee table, screen dark again. They’d all looked at the message, Buccaneer had been adamant to show them. Was sitting on the armchair opposite of them, looking almost grim. Fidgeting though, hands playing with the folds of his sweatpants. Never-getting-a-date-Buccaneer was, when it came to making up his mind, an even more miserable sight.

As such, Miles yawned, wrapping an arm around Akeem’s shoulders in the process.

“Do you want to meet her again?”

Which was a moot question, really. Buccaneer, while only talking about it when they directly asked, had been quiet and mopey. His words though, plenty and cheerful, the blush on his cheeks, all of it had painted a clear picture.

Miles had listened and even though not given too many details, wiped the counter once more.

“I think so? Like, you guys know I’d have been fine with a hookup, but if she…”

While Buccaneer rambled some more, Miles pulled Akeem a bit closer. It wasn’t that he wasn’t all for the big guy finding himself a nice partner, or going out dating, not at all. But that woman had been radio silent for almost two full weeks now. Buccaneer was a great guy, two weeks to realize that was far too long.

Akeem was clearly too soft.

“Then write her back that you’d like to meet her and go somewhere neutral. You kind of have to feel your way through such things as they happen, buddy.”

Miles chewed on his tongue a little, but also was silently aware that his standards for others were a _little bit_ high. His friends were important to him, simple as that. Any chance for pain he wanted to keep them away from. And big, silent Buccaneer felt like such an easy target.

Akeem _was_ right. They did not have an easy start either, acting like total morons in a tense situation, but it had worked out. They were steadfast, happy, even if sometimes polar opposites. And Buccaneer would have to feel his way through it all, there was no other way if one wanted to navigate a personal relationship.

The big guy typing, Miles kept the grim expression up. Just to be safe. Not a minute after Buccaneer presses send, his phone buzzed again.

“Dahlia’s in half an hour? Can I make that?”

They spoke at the same time.

“Is she crazy to rush you like that?!”

“If you choose an outfit in ten then sure.”

He looked at Akeem, who smiled wryly.

“Rich from the man who told me of our first date ten minutes before it happened.”

Miles could only snort.

“Rich from the man that just wore some hospital shift to it!”

The big guy waved, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

“Not. Helping!”

Akeem, more positive and eager than him, gave pointers with ease.

“Something casual, appropriate for the weather so you can go on a walk or something. Take your mobile, some money, tissues,” he threw his hands up while talking, waving Buccaneer towards his bedroom, “You know what, just go get dressed. I’ll put all you should take on the counter.”

 _Great_ , Miles thought to himself, _and who’s now sitting on the couch alone_?! Just because some woman needed way too long to get into her head that Buccaneer was a great guy, who now was doubly as nervous as usually. He sighed.

Watched in silence as Akeem lined up his sensible choices. A packet of tissues, the big guys phone after checking it’s battery, a box for mints Miles watched being sifted through. No mints in it, was quite sure there never were, but rather condoms and dental dams. Akeem checking the dates on them, replacing some.

The big guy stepped out of his room in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

“Too casual?!”

Had he looked _that_ unimpressed? Miles swallowed his annoyance at the person not here.

“It’s totally alright, neither too unkept nor over the top. You wanna do something with your hair?”

Buccaneer snapped his fingers, pointed at him, and went into the bathroom. Miles meanwhile, could only laugh himself to tears as quietly as possible. Akeem walked over, done with his work. Sensibly whispered.

“What’s the matter?”

He could just so grind the words out.

“Look – his – back!”

Coming back in with a freshly braided and styled braid-hawk, Akeem simply walked around the big guy. His laughter like bells, Miles not able to keep quiet anymore.

“What?!”

It was mean, that it was made extra funny by their friends very apparent nerves. Akeem plucked the reason for their laughter from the back of his hoodie, holding it up. At least it was a very pretty pair of lacy panties.

Red in the face and stammering Buccaneer grabbed them.

“Th-they… must’ve stuck to it in…in the dryer!”

Bunched them up, stuffed them in the front pouch of his hoodie, walking to the kitchen counter. Loaded his pockets with the readied items. Turned to them after putting on a pair of boots.

“I-I’ll…”

Miles decided on being nice, biting back his laughter long enough for the big guy to leave.

“No worries Buck, you just keep safe. Call or shoot us a message if you need anything,” a nod as an answer, the poor guy really ready to shatter, as tense as he seemed, “And good luck, have fun.”

Akeem giving a double thumbs up, the door falling into the lock behind the big guy. Hopefully he would not have a heart attack before reaching the tram station.

“What a pretty pair of panties!”

Their giggling started anew, Akeem crashing against him instead of just sitting down like a sensible person.

“I can buy you a pair.”

There was a blush on his boyfriends face, enticing and still not strong enough to hold back the snark right after.

“You’d need a bigger size though, they were tiny!”

Something occurred to Miles.

“Maybe she needed that long to message, because she was in the hospital?”

Confusion on his face, Akeem’s glasses moved by his nose scrunching up.

“Why that?”

Felt a sly grin stretch his mouth.

“Because with that size difference, we can be pretty sure that he broke her in half.”

There was a moment of silence, before their laughter started anew.

* * *

By his ancestors, had she been as beautiful the first time he’d met her?

Hair up in a high ponytail, wearing leggings and an oversized hoodie that reached mid-thigh. Boots, socks spilling out of them. He wouldn’t even think of there being an automail leg, if he weren’t so intensely into the topic, knowing the subtle signs. Waved him over to her table, sitting down again after getting up so he could find her.

Her nervous smile was somehow even more beautiful than the confident one burned into his memory.

“Hey.”

As an answer, Buccaneer heard himself stammer.

Sat down, leg bouncing, eyes darting around. Dahlia’s nice, he’d been there a few times with Miles and Akeem. Run by Ishvalans, offering traditional food and beverages and as such frequently visited. He told himself to get a grip, that the rare chance for a second date was one he shouldn’t blow, but that had never helped.

Interesting though, was that she was nervous also. Visibly so.

Nose crinkling just the tiniest bit, perfectly blended make-up able to hide the scar he’d seen, but not the slight slant to the right. Lips pulled into a thin line, cheeks a normal colour but her ears bright red.

Before he could say anything, which was a joke in and of itself, she spoke up.

“Listen up big guy, I have my hang-ups about this.”

Eyes snapping to hers, so damn blue that it was almost hard to listen to her words. Still, he stiffened on the inside; why would she ask him out, just to explain him what was wrong about them meeting up?

He huffed, which she took as a signal to continue.

“Like, I am,” paused for a minute, taking a sip of her drink, “gosh, it sounds so dramatic, but I’m… I’m a really damaged person, okay? I want to get this right out of the way.”

Buccaneer wanted to say something, cursing at his inability to. Knew this gaze, was gesturing, though she shut his silent protest up with a single gesture of her hand, raising it up, showing him her palm.

“I worked a really fucked up job for a decade, the kind that takes over your mind. All those scars you’ve seen are real and from it, I lost my leg doing this. Like, I have a whole lot of baggage, my own fleet of cargo planes for it basically. So, if you’re not at all up to that, I can’t blame you.”

It was shame, he saw it in many of his clients. Shame for what happened, what they did, what it left them with. Shame for a body and mind mangled by whatever happened to them, causes so different and yet the outcome always so alike. Near defeat in her voice when she spoke next.

“I just want to give you an early out, so you don’t waste any time.”

Searched for his phone, typing almost angrily into an empty document.

_You are NOT a waste of time!!!_

Slid the phone over the table, fixed her with a fierce gaze when she looked up after reading his words.

Scanned him almost, eyes intense, searching his face. Buccaneer making sure to not waiver in his expression, to not give her the wrong idea for even a millisecond. She probably did not fully believe his words, but the small smile pulling on her lips, the phone slid back to him with care, showed that she at least respected his opinion. And she acted accordingly.

“Well then, how about we order something? I’m starving.”

The menu only scanned for a short few moments by him before settling on a tea and the seasoned potato wedges, shown to the waiter with the tip of his finger, while he watched Olivier settle on another spiced coffee and what Akeem called “the blessed bites”, traditional Ishvalan bread filled with hot vegetable paste and cheese. She ordered with a smile, which did not falter in the face of the awkward silence that settled after the waiter left.

It took many moments of looking around and evading each other’s gaze, before he found the courage to take his mobile again, typing furiously.

_Have you been here before?_

It was not creative in the least, but she still answered.

“Two or three times, yes. It’s close to a…,” paused, just for a moment, clearly editing what she wanted to say,” to somewhere I quite regularly go to. It was the smell that drew me.”

Was aware of how he was scanned again, that she’d noticed that _he’d_ noticed her pause. And when the waiter came, carrying their food and placing it on the table with a smile, Buccaneer wished for nothing more but that this hypervigilance and nervousness in them both would just vanish.

Reached for a potato wedge with his automail hand, the fingers slipping on the plate sending it spinning, the little container with the dip send flying. Landing as a yellowish stain on dark blue hoodie.

Buccaneer felt his face burn, saw out of the corner of his eyes that people were looking at them now, felt his nerves take over and was just ready to die on the spot. Kept from it though, by her laughter.

“Do you mind?”

Pointed at his potato wedges, at which he shook his head a bit dumbfounded. Watched as she took one, dipped it into the dip on her hoodie and ate, seeming fully at peace. Smiled of all things.

“Oh, good!”, her cheeks tinted red a little, air blown out of her mouth around the next bite,” Hotter than I expected though!”

His own cheeks still burning, though his nerves somehow calmed down, he typed into his mobile once more, sliding it over to her.

_Sorry, I did NOT mean for that to happen. I’ll gladly pay for cleaning._

She waved with a hand, the other busy with grabbing a bite off her own plate.

“Don’t worry, I know my way around getting food-stains out of stuff.”

Eating now too, the incredibly attentive waiter just so having brought a new dish of dip to their table, the mobile sliding back and forth happening with much more ease.

_You often get food spilled on you?_

“Nah, I’m kind of just a messy eater. My roomie always complains that I never swallow before speaking.”

Did not mind when she reached freely for his plate every then and now, the dip-stain on her hoodie shrinking significantly, soon dabbed at with a napkin. Even took a piece off of her plate, when she offered.

_I don’t think you’re a messy eater!_

“Because we’re in public. I know how to behave myself mostly.”

Winked at him, which had a grin tug on his mouth.

_So, you often go out to eat, or do you stay in mostly?_

“I go out quite often, with my roommate I might add. Neither of us can cook to save a life!”

Chuckled, knew that people were still watching them subtly at times. Buccaneer trying his best to not feel self-conscious about it, aware that his silence was noticeable like that, with her the only one ever speaking. Instead he forced himself to focus on the fact that despite all of it she was here with him, talking and laughing and smiling. Ease creeping in slowly but surely.

_I do not eat out very regularly, but mostly because my roommates force me to cook for them. What’s your favorite place to go to though?_

“You can cook?! You really are the complete package, huh? And do your roommates do the dishes in exchange, that’s the important question! Also, I have no clear favorite, it kind of depends on the day. But the street-food mile is always good.”

Engrossed in their conversation Buccaneer barely noticed the time pass, though after half an hour more talk of food, places in the city and his ability to tell when water is boiling being admired, Olivier almost stealthily payed for them both. Linked her arm with his when leaving Dahlia’s, the course of action set by her grumbling stomach.

* * *

_Who call’s their cats that?! Wouldn’t, I dunno, Mac and Cheese be far easier?_

Startled him a little with her outburst of laughter and the loudly bellowed “THANK YOU!” that drew the gazes from all over the street. Spoke gleefully, shoulder for the umpteenth time making contact with his upper body.

“I’m calling them that for months! Just thank you for seeing it too!”

Offered him another bite of the Bou-wich he’d gotten her, one he gladly took. Savored the taste of grilled caribou meat done up with the traditional spices of the tribespeople, the dark bread made from wild wheats and the special kick of the goats cheese smeared on it thinly. Olivier talking on meanwhile, eyes on him as he chewed.

“This is really good, right? Close to how it tastes back home?”

She’d with pinpoint precision found out that he was of mountain tribe descend during their first encounter, something that had amazed him and had the question of “How?” loop in his mind. A question he typed out while swallowing his bite of Bou-wich, while Olivier took another, amazingly still able to eat more after seemingly having stopped at every single cart in the street.

_How did you know that I’m mountain tribe btw? People think my tats are just random patterns usually._

Rolling the empty napkin up into a little ball, sucking clean her fingers, she answered.

“Your birth-sign, the bear. I spent some time with a tribe a few years back and they offered to tattoo me with my birth sign. Which just so happens to be the very same bear. Well, slightly different, as it was probably a different tribe I guess, but you get my drift.”

Buccaneer narrowed his eyes for a moment, rapid thoughts forcing his expression before he could smooth it over again.

“It was on the other leg.”

Olivier did not move away from him, left her arm looped through his and bumped her shoulder into him once more. Was clearly uncomfortable with the topic though, silence falling for some moments.

He typed and deleted his words several times before she broke him out of trying to find the right words by speaking up.

“You know, I was told that with the harder stuff to talk about a trade would be a good alternative. I mean, I answer a tougher question you may have, and then you answer one of mine. Only if you’re comfortable with that of course!”

It was easier to find an answer to that.

_I’m down, but only if it’s really okay with you. You wanna go first?_

She smiled again, nodded, though there was a clear seriousness to her gaze.

“How did you lose your arm?”

Left said arm looped through hers still, walking down the street slowly, typing with his left. Handed her the mobile with a smile.

_Motorcycle accident when I was seventeen. I did some stupid things those years, got myself into hot water. The Automail I got a few years later, when I finally had my head in order. Mostly_

Watched her while she read, caught the smile at the last word he’d written. Knew that it was a bit cheeky, but alas, he doubted that she only noticed his silence now.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Also: your turn.”

Something that made him much more nervous, though he decided on something that he was asking himself far more often than anything else.

_How long do you have your automail? You move extremely good with it, but it looked so irritated and fresh when we… you know what I mean…_

Calmly Buccaneer watched how she read his question, face moving from surprised to relaxed, to smiling in a matter of words. Mobile handed back to him, while her eyes searched for his. Her voice even.

“For seven months now, give or take a week. I…”

He could hardly believe it.

“What?! Not even a year?! How?”

This time it was him pulling gazes with his loud words, a deep blush working up his face immediately. Instead of anger or embarrassment there was only a devilish grin on her face though.

“What is it with my Automail making you verbal? Not that it isn’t awfully endearing, but in all honesty: What would happen if I flashed you my ankle or something?”

Tugged on his arm a little, got him moving again, even though his feet felt like lead with the people not all having turned their attention to something else yet. Olivier though, easily smiled through his resurging nerves, spoke on, and answered all these questions that had loudly slipped from his lips.

“I was laid up for a few months before the work on my leg and the surrounding structural work could even begin, so you can imagine I was itching to be on my feet again quickly. And balance-wise, well, I was always just naturally good with that, I think. Not to mention that I really fucking hated the wheelchair and being pushed around!”

Laughed at her own words, pulling him even more out of his semi-stupor. He typed in response, gums glued shut, but mind not reeling anymore.

 _You’re pretty darn amazing then. I would’ve guessed_ at least _two years!_

A hint of red on her cheeks, a smile on her lips. Silently he pointed to another cart with delicious smelling food on it, watching her smile widen into a grin, while Buccaneer grew a wide grin himself.

“That looks delicious!”

* * *

“And you don’t find that weird at all?”

Buccaneer sat on the couch; Akeem’s laptop propped up on his knees. The big guy had happily relayed them the story about his successful date, smiling and at ease, with a bit of lipstick on a corner of his mouth. It had given Miles hope, even had made him feel a bit like an asshole for all the distrust and being so judgmental, before his oldest friend had relayed the ridiculous end-of-date-stipulation.

“No, she was quite serious about it, so I take it seriously too.”

He huffed, Akeem still in the shower and while gladly having given up his laptop for the moment, not having commented on what weirded Miles out so greatly.

“So let me get this straight: She deleted your number out of her phone, saved her number in yours with her full name and you are to google her and then decide if you want to contact her again? Am I getting that right?”

Buccaneer was typing on the keyboard, not looking up.

“Yup.

“And you don’t find that super-weird? Or that it feels like backwards-catfishing or something?”

“Nope.”

Instead of sitting there and silently fuming at the big guy, Miles got up and went into the kitchen, chopping vegetables while fuming. Looked over from time to time, Buccaneer’s face shone at by the screen, seeming that much paler in the white light. Clearly engrossed with what he was reading.

What could there be on the internet that Buccaneer would have to read before another date? Porn videos? News stories about how that woman butchered her last boyfriend? Or was there …

Broken out of his thoughts by a heavy sigh, Miles looked at his friend once more. How he drew a deep breath with his eyes closed, then another. Clicked twice more on the laptop, closed it and took up his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Asking her if she wants to go on date with me soon.”

Miles wanted to say something more, though the arrival of a freshly showered Akeem intercepted his words, the cheerful question upon seeing Buccaneer with his mobile in hand.

“Hey Buck, so it’s all not so bad, huh?”

Buccaneers expression of a soft smile did not match the words that left his mouth.

“It is far worse than I could’ve ever imagined. I could not watch any of the videos or look at the pictures, I stuck to Wikipedia.”

Akeem, seeming only the tiniest bit put out, exchanged a look with him, then turned back to their friend.

“And you still want to meet up with her again?”

The smile did not leave Buccaneers face.

“When someone can face all of that, still be able to smile, laugh, be patient, funny and kind, how could I not want to meet them again?”

Akeem simply nodded, seeming quite touched by the big guys words, though neither of them knew just what exactly Buccaneer had read about her. Miles though, knew rose-colored glasses when he saw them. And he also knew that Buccaneer was not one to delete his browser history.

Their friends smile widening when his phone buzzed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shurgs again*

**Author's Note:**

> ... you know that feel when you write smut and suddenly you come up with a super dramatic healing-plot to go with? Welcome to my world^^


End file.
